


Blank Canvas

by loveharkins



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Monochrome, Mutual Pining, Synesthesia, colorblind, dream a shy boi, dream has synesthesia, dream team, dreamnotfound, george is color blind, geroge sassy boi, i lied i decided that there will be angst, no beta we die like not technoblade, sapnap is mentioned, this might be my only non angst fic lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:14:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27708866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveharkins/pseuds/loveharkins
Summary: DreamNotFound AU wherein George sees in monochrome and Dream has synesthesia.or wherein;George is a blank canvas ready to be painted.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 77





	1. Chapter One

George loved looking out his window. It became a habit of his to approach it whenever he got stressed out. He would take a few minutes of leisure, enjoying the world around him. It reminded him of how small he was. One small dot in a busy building, on a busy street, and in a busy city. It’s what kept George grounded, just how simple the world really was. The fresh air, the busy streets, and the gray sky. He loved them. For him, the world was simply black and white.

Just like everyone else, George could smell the fresh air around him and when he wasn’t streaming or listening to music with his headphones on, he could hear the faint chatter of the people passing his neighborhood. He was normal.

When George was five, he passed by a man leaking dark gray and a white car that blinked in two other shades of gray. He walked past it all and entered a car together with his parents. In which he noticed that the car stopped whenever they neared a black rectangle. It had three circles and each circle lit up a few shades lighter when his dad stopped driving and another lit up when his dad started driving again.

Young George went to school that day and boasted about his dad’s ability to make things light up just by driving. The other kids were intrigued, so curious as to how that was even possible. Eventually, their teacher asked what all the fuss was about and George cockily explained everything again. She laughed at his innocence and sat him down. She asked George to draw it so the other kids could learn about what he was thinking about, she immediately understood that he was talking about a traffic light.

She watched as the other kids surrounded George as he got a sheet of paper and a box full of small broken crayons. She smiled brightly at everyone’s enthusiasm, although her smile got smaller and smaller the more George spent time on his drawing. Taking a deep breath she mentally took note to call George’s parents when the school day ends.

Colorblind. That’s what his teacher told his parents and even what his pediatrician told him. It’s what they called him and it’s what he heard whenever he was in a family reunion.

He never yearned to learn them and try to see them. He had no reason to, there was literally no point so George grew up just scoffing at comments pitying him for never seeing color and asking him if there was a cure.

He didn’t need a cure, he wasn’t sick.

George never accepted it really. Call him in denial but he never considered himself blind, he saw the world just fine. Everything was simply a few shades darker or even a few shades lighter. It shouldn’t have to be so complicated with all these colors and hues.

He had never cared and it never really bothered him.

***

George hunched over his phone holding it with two hands as the light from his screen illuminated his face and a small part of his bed. It was midnight and he was staring at a picture of Dream’s eyes.

He pursed his lips as he scrolled through the thousands of replies under it and furrowed his brows. He scoffed at one comment saying that they were jealous of the color of his eyes. Fucking color. Apparently, Dream’s eyes were littered with colors.

He quickly scrolled up again to look at the picture once more. “Colors,” George breathed out after a minute of silence.

George brought his two fingers to the screen and started to zoom in on certain areas of Dream’s eyes, admiring it all. He could tell where certain parts of his eye went darker and he could see a tiny part of his Sclera, the white area that surrounded the iris.

Dream’s eyes were beautiful. There was no denying how mesmerized George was just looking at it.

This was also the closest George has gotten to looking at Dream’s face. He always genuinely felt like shit whenever Sapnap bragged about seeing Dream’s face, it was unfair. They were friends too were they not? And now all George gets is a cropped out picture of his damn eyes. What’s worse is he doesn’t even get to see it completely. For him, it was unfair that thousands of people are getting the same privilege as him and more.

Fuck colors. He thought.

George had a sudden bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. He sat still, not knowing what to do. It’s the feeling one gets when you know something bad was about to happen and you know you can’t stop it, no matter how hard you try. So you just sit there waiting for something to happen, waiting for it to be over. He sat still for a while with blurred vision and dry lips. He was waiting and waiting but it seemed like the bad feeling didn’t want to leave him alone.

George never cared about colors until now.

The next day was no different from the one before. George was still staring at the picture, this time saved on his phone and not on Twitter. He didn’t want to have the urge to look at the replies again. It was ironic, really. He used to get irritated at the people who tried to teach him color and yesterday he was practically trying to absorb it all, hoping it would magically let him understand color and let him see Dream.

He closed his eyes for a while. Taking in his surroundings, his windows and curtains were wide open and he could practically feel the sunlight on his face.

The feeling from yesterday still present, no doubt getting even stronger. Moments pass until a faint ring is muffled by his duvet. He lifted it up and spotted his phone at the end of the bed. He grabbed his phone and let the duvet fall back down, draped over the bottom half of his body.

Not bothering to check who it was, George quickly accepted the call.

“Hello?” George whispered. He had absolutely no energy right now.

“George! Hi,” Dream paused for a moment. “Good morning.”

George had a small smile of disbelief on his face. “Why are you calling?”

“I just wanted to say hi.”

George was quiet for a moment. “Oh?”

“What do you mean, Oh? I-I just wanted to say hi, George. Is that illegal now?” Dream faked a frown, not that George could see it. To be fair, Dream did just want to say hi.

“Nothing,” George licked his lips. “That’s all then, yeah? Bye, Dream.”

“Wait no-” Dream struggled to form an actual sentence and was stumbling over his own words. Surely some of it made sense to Dream but for George, it was completely inaudible.

“Have you seen the pic?” Dream finally replied.

“Y-yes,” George spoke slowly as if unsure.

“Handsome, right?” Dream joked.

George didn’t want to reply to that. Way before that stupid eye selfie, George always thought of Dream as handsome. Sometimes he would think Dream was cute, attractive, and gentle. Most of the time, Dream was beautiful. Dream’s voice was his favorite. It wasn’t just about the way he spoke, it was also about what he was saying. He could never help but feel safe whenever Dream rambled on about random topics. Even when they were arguing, George felt safe.

Silence remained as George reflected way too much on the very simple question and as Dream was awkwardly waiting for a reply.

“Okay, yeah um… Well, I’m streaming another speedrun in a few minutes. Wanna hop on TeamSpeak with me?” Dream spoke.

“Dream?”

Dream hummed in response. “I need you,” George replied. “I need your voice.”

Yeah, there was no way Dream was going to answer that.

George was gently banging his head on the headboard. He worded that very badly.

“I want you to teach me colors, Dream.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The start of something new.

He stood empty and alone while he waited to be painted. A canvas isn’t made to be just plain white, that would be boring. It was made to be made again. To be made into a piece of art that only the painter that owned it could ever create. He stood there until he wasn’t alone anymore. The canvas and the painter stared at each other for a while, waiting for a motive, a reason to be where they are. They’re a little lost at the moment but at least they’re not alone.

***

George put his arms up towards the sky. Admiring how a portion of the warmth of the sun was somewhat placed in his own palm. He was out here for a long time now, he didn’t mind. George enjoyed laying on the grass, especially during the early morning.

“George?” Dream said, his voice laced with irritation and a hint of concern. “You’re so annoying.” Dream joked.

Silence remained as George continued to examine how his hand looked against the light. He took note of how long his fingernails were and he promised himself to cut it soon.

“Hello? Are you still there, George?”

George continued to ignore the younger man and began to pull out small patches of grass by his right. His phone was carefully leaning on a rock to his left.

“Georgeee,” Dream yawned. It was currently 3 in the morning for Dream, not that it mattered to both of them. Time zones are no match for messed up sleep schedules. “That’s it, I’m ending the call.” He huffed.

Silence.

“Georgeee,” Dream repeated.

George sighed when he realized he would have to respond sooner or later. Dream was as stubborn as he was clingy. He doesn’t understand why he was so hesitant to respond anyway, he was delaying the inevitable. He brought this upon himself, Dream even had to double-check with George asking if he heard right.

George was finally learning colors. Hooray!

See, learning colors is usually fun and exciting, if you were some toddler but George was 24 now. He was an adult. A full-grown man who never bothered to study colors, until now.

He groaned and turned away from the sky and faced his phone, lying on his side. “I’m here,” George sprinkled specs from the grass onto the ground beside him. “I- I think I’m ready now.”

“Is it like, um, on now?” George made a face, unsure of how his friend’s ‘condition’ actually worked. Which George hadn’t even known until Dream suddenly slipped up and revealed it to him and Sapnap during a TeamSpeak call. They were talking about YoutTube analytics when Dream forgot to unmute and told his mom that the steak he ate for dinner tasted like an octagon.

Dream wheezed at George’s ignorance. “Oh my god George,” George rolled his eyes at his friend who could barely form a coherent sentence in between all his wheezing.

“It’s always on, George,” Dream paused. “Just like me.”

George scrunched up his face cringing at his friend’s remark. God he could practically hear Dream’s shit-eating (literally) grin through the screen.

“Yeah, alright whatever,” George sat up, wiping off any dirt from his shirt. He stared at his phone for a moment, debating on whether or not this was a good idea. A small gush of wind hit his face and he sighed, lifting his phone on shoulder level and turned on his camera. “Here just tell me about this.” The back camera was pointed towards the sky and you could see a portion of George’s arm in the shot pointing at the clear sky.

“Well, um- it matches your shirt,” Dream laughs. George rolled his eyes. “Motherfuc-” He starts.

“Have you ever been to the beach, George?” Dream asks sleepily.

George looked around him looking for an answer. “Like once? When I was 19, I went to one with my mum. It was nice.” He picked up a small stone to fidget with, rubbing it with his right hand while his left held up his phone. The camera now turned off.

“It looks like that,” He stuttered, “The water at the beach and- and the wind you feel? It kinda looks like that.”

“It’s usually associated with cold stuff you know but for me, it's kinda both hot and cold, it’s warm. And um- if you look it up people say it represents serenity and stuff, so you kinda get that when you’re at the beach. I remember just floating in the water once. I was at peace. It- It was so peaceful George. At the time it kinda felt like, like nothing could go wrong.” Whilst Dream was telling George about the color of the sky he closed his eyes and tried to imagine it all. He kinda got it? He was trying.

“When I was a kid, I opened the freezer to put in the tub of ice cream my mom brought home so this rush of cold fresh air was, like, gushing to my face and all I could feel was that time at the beach. I could swear I was teleported back for a brief moment. Cold is beautiful sometimes.”

“When I talk to you it’s-” Dream stopped himself before he could say anything else. George popped one eye open. “It’s like what?” George was smiling.

_Warm. Dream thought._   
_I’m a color to him, huh. George thought._

“What am I to you, Dream?” George smirked, trying to get a reaction from the man behind the screen.  
No response.

“Tell me, Dream. What am I to you? Where does your mind lead you whenever you talk to me?” George looked around, the park was starting to get crowded. He would have to leave soon.

“I- I’ll tell you when you start seeing colors, George,” He laughed nervously.

George nodded slowly. “Fine,” He said. “It worked for that one guy.”

“Alright, I’ll be right back. I’ll just feed patches for a bit.” Dream excused himself but did not leave the call.

A few weeks ago, the internet went crazy over the guy who suddenly started seeing colors. He was partially colorblind and doctors backed him up and said that it was actually possible. George remembered Sapnap and Dream shouting at him to wake up. Saying that maybe, it could happen to him too. He scoffed and reminded them that the guy was partially colorblind while he couldn’t even see anything past gray. 

That was before George had got iffy feeling he got ever since Dream posted that picture. This time he was determined and hopeful. He was really, really hoping to see Dream soon. To properly see him, all of it. 

Dream always gave off a vague description of himself. If anything he was just another average white dude. A plain chad. Not to George though, definitely not to George. For him, Dream was the smell of fresh air and the warm feeling you get when you wake up early in the morning. He couldn’t pinpoint why it reminded him of Dream but it did. He didn’t have synesthesia, he knew that for sure, maybe he just wanted to attach Dream to something before he gets tired of this online thing and just gives up on it. It was driving him crazy that the most interaction he gets is through screens and speakers. He’s gotta cope somehow.

George can’t smell Dream. He was a continent and a pandemic away from him. Meeting up any time soon would be stupid and impossible. So he attached Dream onto the fresh air you get in the early morning and the warmth you get when you open your curtains and the sunlight gently caresses your skin.

He went back to the words Dream blurted out moments ago; serenity and peace. Despite Dream’s chaotic nature, Dream calms him. Without even physically being there, Dream calms him.

After he made the connection between the two he would routinely open his windows in the morning, as if letting Dream in.

“Hello!”

Dream blew into the microphone causing George to wince a bit at the sudden noise. A noise, George wishes to never hear again. “Patches just ate. She’s very full right now so she’s on my bed napping.”

“Tell Patches I said hi.”

Silence took over until shuffling was heard from the other side. “Hey there pretty kitty,” George could tell Dream actually went over to Patches, judging from the sudden echo in Dream’s voice. Far away from the mic but still near enough that George could hear tidbits of their conversation.

George could hear Patches give out a small purr. “Woah there, no need to get up,” Dream spoke slowly, careful to not wake the feline any further. “Just wanted to tell you he said hi. That’s all you can go back to sleep now, sorry I woke you up.”

He tilted his head a bit to the right and took a deep breath. Dream was being unnecessarily wholesome right now.

Dream walked towards his desk and tapped the area near his mic, signaling his return. “I did itttt...”

Silence loomed over both of them as they both began to ponder what they were doing. It was a big step for both of them. Dream hid his synesthesia, for a reason he never mentioned, and well George never really cared about his color blindness, it was never a burden to him and it never will be. George found it funny, really. Dream has, in a way, seen more color than he ever will but Dream takes it as a burden. He told him once that it sometimes just gets overwhelming, feeling all those things and never having a proper way to make use of them.

So maybe they were actually helping each other in some way.

“George, why are you doing this?”  
“I don’t know,” He lied, he knew perfectly well what pushed him in this direction but he would never admit it. He just wants to be able to see, that’s all.

“I need a proper answer. Honestly I- I don’t think I can do this George. I never did anything like this before. I just always kept it to myself, all these thoughts and all these feelings-” he paused giving himself time to take a few deep breaths. “I’ve never dealt with it like this before. And now that I am here I’m a little lost, really. What I said earlier was just stuff at the top of my head. I have to be honest with you, I was holding back. And I think that- that if you could just tell me why we’re doing this it would help me and you by a lot.”

I want to see you. He thought while still fidgeting with a rock.

“I want to see the world in your eyes, Dream.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi hello this is my first ever story that's like this for this fandom and I hope you guys enjoyed it! ill probably update every other week and as always feel free to leave any suggestions and criticisms aha you can also talk to me @loveharkins on twitter hehe

**Author's Note:**

> Okay this is a weird AU bear with me I'm not very confident with the writing in this one but whatever. Also feel free to send me your prompts on Twitter :DD (@loveharkins)


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